


Shiver

by cafeanna



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Alternative Universe - Kingdom, Angst, ChroLeoPika, ChroLeoPika Week, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, Royal Physician Leorio, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 20:33:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29459826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cafeanna/pseuds/cafeanna
Summary: “The prince and his consort,” Cheadle murmured, fanning herself with her times table pamphlet. “They often ride together when the weather is clear enough.”Or, Leorio becomes entangled in royal sheets.
Relationships: Kurapika/Kuroro Lucifer | Chrollo Lucifer/Leorio Paladiknight
Comments: 8
Kudos: 18
Collections: CLK Week '21





	Shiver

**Author's Note:**

> [ChroLeoPika Week: Feb 15th: Period Drama] 
> 
> tagged for vague sexual content and unhealthy relationship dynamics. not your thing, totally okay

Leorio dreamt of heat.

In his first crossing into Ryuseigai, in a railroad car wrought from steel, patrons in the upper-carts sat with iced drinks and cool air, but Leorio travelled without those comforts and contented himself with his seat in steerage. 

Until the train stalled on the tracks for maintenance.

He didn’t have to look to know Cheadle was feeling the heat too. Her cheeks burnt red and her hat pulling low over her eyes. Leorio opened the window to get some relief, sticking his head and shoulders out the narrow space, and ignoring his professor when she sniped at him for impropriety.

The burning metal against his fingers was punishment enough.

Much hotter than he was used to back in his hometown. Leagues worse than his university.

But the whip of the wind offered some relief. The smell of something metal, some tight-packed earth curled in his senses. Sweat cooling on his brow.

He would have given anything for something cool.

He didn’t remember when he noticed them, but in the distance, he remembered eyeing the hazy figures on horseback and wondered who would be crazy enough to be out in this heat.

“The prince and his consort,” Cheadle murmured, fanning herself with her times table pamphlet. “They often ride together when the weather is clear enough.”

In his dream, the figures on horseback were closer.

He could hear the thin reed of excitement as the news filtered through the car, people crowding the windows to get a look, Leorio included. He had never understood the appeal of royal watchers, but then he had never lived in a country where titles like king or queen, or princes and princess, held any true weight. It seemed rather old fashioned.

But he would later learn that of the few traditions they held, Ryuseigai natives were steadfast.

Their council, conclave, and crown were as sacred as theocracy.

Closer now, he could better distinguish the figures.

Two horses, side-by-side, one rider—the Prince—was dressed in regal black, lying flat across the animal’s back to give it more rein as they thundering across the terrain like a storm cloud. The second rider was sitting up in the saddle, lighter, boots hooked into the stirrups of horse at a whole gallop. Perfectly balanced. Blond hair, gold skin, dressed in gosling white—the prince’s consort.

Gone in the thundering of hoof beats. A stray shout. Laughter.

Cheers went up in the cars as they passed.

It was only a moment, a passing in time, a vague memory among the rest. Leorio was on his way to his first job in residency, his brain was occupied by much else.

* * *

Leorio woke with sweat stringing his eyes.

He had fallen asleep tracing the crown molding on the ceiling. Sheets tangled around his legs as the peak of pink light glimpsed through the open windows. The duties of the day still far off. Blessed, cool morning chilling the floors and curling through the stagnant air.

He closed his eyes again, blotting out the light and drew a breath to calm himself.

He was in Kurapika’s room, lying in a bed of silk satin and sweat cooling against his skin.

And he was not alone in the bed, but the dip in the mattress beside him was a warmth sealed too far away. The empty space between them cavernous.

He leaned up in slowly, careful with himself as if fearing a hangover. His vision blurred for a moment and he eyed the empty bottle on the nightstand, brow crunching. There was a glass of water there too and he took it, drinking down the dry taste in his mouth, and wondering why he had awoken feeling so anxious.

The dream played over and over behind his eyelids.

Not something wicked, like the conjuring of monsters and witches from old faerietales, but a memory. Made sharper by intimate knowledge.

It was just a memory.

Something he knew.

Something he knew about Kurapika and his husband that made his chest ache and his stomach tighten. That there had been a time before now when he had seen Kurapika and the Prince together. Kurapika with his hair whipping behind him like a ribbon, the slashed sleeves of his riding gear billowing like wings, and the beautiful, haunting gale of his laughter carrying across the dunes he rode along with Kuroro beside him.

Happy and in love.

Leorio felt sick with it.

He felt sick with knowing that there had been a time when Kurapika had loved the Prince so openly. That Leorio had _witnessed_ it.

They looked good together—a dark prince and his sunlit consort—Leorio was tempted with the thought that Kuroro might have chosen Kurapika for that contrast alone, but he knew Kurapika’s heart, his mind. And the Prince had valued both.

Kurapika would always be Kuroro’s love. Even if Kurapika could find a way to annul the marriage, Kuroro would always be in the corners of Kurapika’s life. Haunting his shadows, measuring his steps. Kuroro would always be Kurapika’s advisor and confidant, his first in many things. It was Kuroro who shared Kurapika’s bed for years before Leorio even spoke his name. It was Kuroro who leaned and sighed and delighted in the pleasures of Kurapika’s comfort before him.

And Leorio would always have him after.

Would lock him in his heart and hold him close.

 _For as long as he will have me,_ he thought. _That is how long I will stay._

And even then, in the faint light of the morning, the naked skin of Kurapika’s back turning richer gold in the light. He wanted to reach out and touch him, but he feared waking. Kurapika slept so little. His duties as Kuroro’s righthand kept him up all hours, ink staining the tips of his fingers. Court documents dragging along the length of the bed.

But, it was so rare that they were alone.

It made him maudlin, and no matter how happy he was, Leorio could not help but wonder what would become of his heart if Kurapika ever _did_ return to Kuroro.

How would he fair? Who would he be if Kurapika returned to the arms that caged him too close, to the mouth that spoke only lies, to those lands he swore never to return.

“Rough morning?”

The cool voice pulled a tension of strings, sweet as a scream, and Leorio felt his body go cold.

The dark prince looked ghostly in the faint light, half-hidden behind a bed curtains, lounging against the poster. A book in hand. Closing against the curl of his palm. Leorio felt himself straighten as he approached, palms against his knobby knees.

The Prince was wearing his black silk robe, corded at the waist, but from the whisper of the fabric, Leorio knew there was nothing beneath. Vaguely, he wondered when the Prince had slipped out from between them, but all thoughts stalled when Kuroro placed a hand under his chin. The very edges of his fingers tipping his face.

“What were you dreaming about?”

His voice was cool amusement, black water with something venomous swimming beneath.

Leorio leaned into the thumb stroking his chin, voice at a whisper. “The first time I saw you two. In the passing through the west territories years ago. Kurapika was in this white riding outfit and he looked like an angel.”

Kurapika hummed on the bed behind him, easily roused, and restless at the sound of his name.

Kuroro’s eyes were dark with something Leorio could not quite decipher. “Yes, we used to go quite often together.” Between the fathomless depths of his eyes and the fringe of his lashes, there was a telling hint of sadness.

Leorio swallowed, wondering if he had misspoken, but Kuroro bent forward, soothing him with a kiss. Short, lingering in the press.

“No matter,” he hummed, trailing kisses to Leorio’s cheek. “We have other mutual interests now. Don’t we, my love?” The tentative chill of Kurapika’s slender fingers brush up his spine, sweet against the carve of back, lips pressing against his shoulder blades with a hum.

Leorio shivered.

Kuroro curled his palm under Leorio’s chin, snatching his attention back. Face held higher so Leorio could only see him as Kurapika’s arms slipped around his waist. “We have you now, don’t we?”

This time when the Prince bent to kiss him, Leorio felt teeth.

**Author's Note:**

> Did you think I would cuck Kuroro on this? The first day of CLK Week? 
> 
> He was cucked in the past tense. And then he inserted himself to make a thruple. Yay for him. I do have a lot of plans for this idea, but alas, I’m very good at quick sexy one-shots and never looking back. However, I do have the krkr proposal scene written (somewhere, goddamnit) and I will be linking that once I find the son of a bitch.
> 
> Regardless, I’m really excited! I have some cute ideas planned. And then some. 
> 
> -cafeanna


End file.
